


be all my sins remembered

by hipgrab (merrymegtargaryen)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben is a nerd, F/M, Kylet Prince of Trashmark, NOT ben, but it's kylo ren, kylo is every inch the trash prince that hamlet is, the part where hamlet makes three vagina jokes in a row
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 22:42:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13511274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymegtargaryen/pseuds/hipgrab
Summary: That's a fair thought to lie between maids' legs.What is, my lord?Nothing.





	be all my sins remembered

_ My lord, I have remembrances of yours _

_ That I have longed long to redeliver. _

_ I pray you now receive them. _

**_No, not I. I never gave you aught._ **

The exchange plays over and over in her head. Something is  _ wrong _ . And not just. Well. Not just the one thing. There’s something else, something he’s hiding from her. 

It makes her stomach churn to see him so merry now, eager as a little boy and not a man of twenty-nine. He hasn’t been this merry since before his father died, and even then he was always tinged with melancholy. That’s what drew her to him at first, how he was the only person who seemed to understand her loneliness. 

_ Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered _ . 

“Come hither, my dear Kylo, sit by me,” the queen urges now. 

Kylo shakes his head, turning to Rey. “No, good mother. Here’s metal more attractive.” 

She sucks in a breath as he kneels before her, his hands curling around the backs of her calves. She remembers the last time he touched her this way. She is sure he remembers too.

“Lady,” he murmurs, his eyes boring into hers. “Shall I lie in your lap?”

Her face flushes. “No, my lord,” she hisses, conscious of his mother and uncle and the entire court surrounding them.

His lip curls. “I mean, my head  _ upon _ your lap?” He demonstrates, resting his head on her thigh, his eyes never leaving hers. 

She stares at her other knee, pretends her heart doesn’t ache at the intimacy with which he treats her now. Where is the brute from only a few hours ago? “Ay, my lord,” she mumbles. 

There is amusement in his voice. “Did you think I meant  _ count _ ry matters?”

Ah. There he is. “I think nothing, my lord.”

“That’s a fair thought to lie between maids’ legs.” 

“What is, my lord?”

He waits until she looks him in the eye again, a spark of mischief meant only for her. “ _ Nothing _ .” 

She looks away again. “You are merry, my lord.”

“Who, I?” he asks innocently. 

“Ay, my lord.”

“O, God.” His eyes bore into hers again, and his fingers dig into the flesh of her calf. “What should a man do but be merry?”

_ Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered _ .


End file.
